


Dirty Cop

by heartofsnark



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Cop Fetish, Cops, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, I mean kinda?, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Rape/Non-con Elements, Strip Search, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Vaginal Fingering, fetishized non-con, it's literally a cop using his power/authority to violate my oc, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:54:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28066569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartofsnark/pseuds/heartofsnark
Summary: Aidan (V) is a former nomad trying to get into Night City, but the sheriff seems keen on getting something more out of her first.*Was started before the game launched and I haven't played it yet, so could be extremely ooc, idfk
Relationships: female v/andrew jones, i think that's his name, the sheriff - Relationship, v/andrew jones, v/sheriff
Kudos: 27





	Dirty Cop

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo, seeing the sheriff in some of the promotional stuff made me think hmmm he seems like a dirty cop who'd ask you to blow him to get out of trouble. And then I wrote a thing.

Aidan wrings and clenches her hands, rubbing the skin raw on her knuckles, as she knocks them against her mask in her lap. In the border patrol for Night City, strangers sit in small chairs around her, waiting to be talked to by the authorities. She just wants into the damn city, why is that such a monumental request? Officers with the NCPD are roaming around, taking people back to ask questions and eventually it will be her turn. Her former clan, The Herd, is among the group of Nomad Groups not permitted into Night City. If they find out at all that she had ties with them, even after severing them, they’d never let her in. She has a story in mind, claiming her clan was just a simple family one, that she’s decided to try a life of stability in the city. It sounds good, a little idealistic, but hopefully they’ll buy it. 

The stomp of boots through the office catches her attention and when she looks up she instinctively shrinks down. The Sheriff, she hadn’t caught his name, isn’t sure it really matters. All she truly knows is he has a problem with Nomads and her. He’d shamelessly stepped on her little shitty car at the mechanic’s, demanding answers about her lingering around the border. 

She was wearing her mask then, now it sits in her lap, but it’s distinctive in appearance with X’ed out eyes and fanged wide smile on a hologram display. Aidan keeps her head down, to avoid his gaze. He’s tall and muscular, in a tan uniform with a brown cowboy hat, it looks ridiculous but it’s the uniform she supposes. Cybernetic palms and fingers, make them slick black. His blue eyes scan the room behind tinted aviators. 

And then those eyes are on her. 

She stares at the floor and slips her hand over the front of her mask, hoping he somehow won’t connect the dots as to who she is. 

“Well, look what we have here … ” His voice draws out and she knows her mission failed.

She doesn’t say anything, plausible deniability, no way for her to know he’s talking to her. If not for the clearly visible hearing aids in her ears, she’d pretend she couldn’t even hear him. 

“It’s only right to respond when someone’s talking to you, Nomad,” he says to her, knocking his dirty boot into her shin. 

“Hello, Sheriff,” she greets him with a shy nod.

“Well, not quite what I expected to be hiding under that mask, are you?” 

“It’s not really my job to manage your expectations … ” She shrugs her shoulders, looking up at him, she tries to give her biggest puppy dog eyes hoping it’ll help her case. He’s a lot taller than her, especially with her sitting and him standing. 

“C’mon, think it’s time you and me have a proper chat,” he says before walking away, the message to follow him clear. 

She sighs and does just that, keeping her head down as she walks through. Aidan doesn’t have much leverage in this situation; young, unarmed, and an absolute nobody in the world. But she’s small and moderately cute; non-threatening in appearance when she has a mask. If she can convince them she’s a sad adorable puppy dog of a girl, maybe he’ll be nice. Or at least not extremely mean. 

Sticking to that, she sits in the little rickety chair with her head down and hands folded in her lap. The sheriff closes the door behind her, the click of a lock, before walking to the other side of the desk and sitting down, he spreads his legs wide and leisurely, looking over her. 

“Time for you to start talking, the fuck is your deal, Nomad?” 

“Not much to say, decided to leave the family, wanted to make it on my own in Night City.” 

“What clan you from?” 

“Just a little family one, our last name is Becker, nothing big.” 

“That so,” he says, nearly sneering at her. He’s not buying it. 

“It is.” 

“So, what’s the deal with the mask?” 

“Keeps people from bugging me, helps translate my sign language if I don’t wanna talk.” 

“Hmmm,” he leans forward, elbows on the desk, nearly in her face from across it, “we get a lot of folks trying to come into the city, lots of reasons why. From people looking to find something in the city or trying to run and hide from something outside of it. Way I figure, not much reason to wear a mask unless you’re hiding from something … ” 

“And what if I am?” 

“Well, if you’re running from something, we gotta worry about it following you into our city. We got enough troubles without worrying about some runaway nomad bringing more bullshit in.” 

“I just want someplace to call my own … ”

“And I want to keep the rest of our citizens safe.” 

“I’m not dangerous … ” 

“You’re not,” he raises an eyebrow, “I seem to remember you getting a real bad attitude with me last time.” 

She did because he was being a dick. His issues with nomads as a whole pissing her off. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m dangerous.” 

“Night City has enough people who can’t listen or play nice, we don’t need anymore of it.” 

Aidan chews her lip, not sure of what else to say, her moment of attitude may have very well cost her last hope of a future outside of The Herd. Would crying help? It’s shady and manipulative, but a part of it would be genuine, and it might earn her sympathy is nothing else. 

“However, if you could show your willing to listen and be good, I could let you through. No more questions asked.” He leans back in his chair once he’s done speaking, his body language is languid and calm, legs still wide open. 

“How would I show that?” 

Her first thought is maybe there’s work that the NCPD could use her for, it wouldn’t be unbelievable or impossible to think they’d outsource work to some solo. 

“You familiar with what a strip search is, Nomad?” 

“Uh … yes … ” Her blood runs cold at the implications … he can’t possibly be that disgusting. 

“Good,” he gives a half smile, “now strip.” 

She’s frozen, blinking for a moment out of sheer shock. It’s not as if she’s a stranger to corruption, but the blatancy of it takes her aback. The sheriff’s eyes dragging up and down her frame, waiting for her to obey his command and let him see what’s beneath her clothes. And if getting past him wasn’t her only way into Night City, she’d be inclined to knock the smile off his face. But, that’s not the world she’s living in. 

A shaky breath to steel her nerves and she’s shrugging off her jacket; then peeling off her shirt to feel his eyes take in the skin revealed to him. The expanse of her freckled stomach and cleavage now exposed. She bites her lip as she takes off her bra, nipples stiffening in open air. Instinct screams at her to cover up, to hide herself from his prying uninvited gaze. That instinct fights against the heat pooling between her thighs; a shameful amount of slick collecting there. Her body reacting to the dirtiness of it all in a way she hadn’t expected. 

“Is that good enough … ?” She asks with a flush high on her cheeks, hands clasped behind her back, hoping for it to end before she has to spend another second questioning her own reaction. 

He laughs, a deep rumble in his chest that makes her tense. 

“Enough … ,” he raises his eyebrow in condescension, “you want into my city, right?” 

She nods.

“Then I need to know you ain’t hiding anything and I’ll damn well let you know when that’s the case. Keep going.” 

She sighs and kicks off her boots, before unbuttoning her jeans, reminding herself that she just needs to get into the city. Aidan decides to rip the band-aid off as quick as she can, hooking her fingers into her panties when she pulls off her jeans; stripping her bottom half completely in one quick fluid movement. It speeds up the process and hopefully helped hide some of her wet and the way it clung to her underwear. And she’s left standing before the sheriff naked. 

Behind his glasses he looks her up and down, taking her in from her freckled breasts with soft pink nipples to the dark patch of pubic hair that contrasts to the bleach blonde strands that frame her face. She takes a deep breathe and hopes he doesn’t see the slick sticking to the plush of her inner thighs. 

A flicker of movement draws her eyes to his hand rubbing over the erection starting to tint his pants. He definitely wants more than a peep show; the idea that this could end with him inside of her hits her. It’s vile and disgusting; but her cunt clenches at the idea, growing wetter. Her body contradicts her mind at every moment. 

The sheriff shifts in his chair leaning forward and his fingers clasp on her hip; muscles tensing as cool cybernetics meet her skin. She’s held in place as his other hand creeps between her thighs, fingertips collecting the wet that’s collected there. 

“You get worked up easy, Outsider?” 

“Ah,” she gasps when his fingers part the lips of her sex, rubbing a digit back and forth through her slick, just teasing over her clit when he hits it. He never presses in deep, just taunting her with his touch. 

“I asked you a question.” 

“Yes … ” Aidan admits, she’s always been sensitive and needy when it comes to sex, a hair trigger when it comes to arousal. Which makes this all the more frustrating. 

“Good girl,” he teases before sinking a finger into her, watching the black cybernetic digit push into her wet pussy. His fingers are large, nearly prying her apart. 

She whimpers and gasps as he adds another finger, working her apart, rubbing along her insides. Her legs wobble to stand up straight under his touch. If he had any concern about her staying upright, he shows none of it, adding a third finger. Every slide and grind of his fingers inside of her tighten the tension in her core; building her pleasure higher and higher, despite the shame that spiral inside of her mind. 

Every rub of his fingers over her insides, the steady way he sinks them into her, hand shining with wet; it all builds and builds. Burning hot and low in her stomach, as her body desperately wants to chase her high. Hips squirming without her consciously doing so, only serving to push him deeper inside of her. She presses a hand to her burning hot face as if she could hide her shame while he’s still finger fucking her; her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she clenches her toes into the dingy carpet of the little office. She doesn’t want to cum, not from this. 

Then he rubs a thumb over her clit; white hot pleasure snaps the tension, nearly collapsing as she sinks her teeth into her hand to suppress her own cries. Her mind blanks for a moment as her hips twitch and her body works through the orgasm, aftershocks of pleasure flickering through her nerves when he pulls his fingers from her. 

“I’d say you did good, but look at the fucking mess you made,” he says, leaning back in his chair, hand still coated in her slick. But when she looks down she sees wet spots in the carpet. 

“Sorry … ?” She apologizes, voice broken into pants and confused. 

“Words won’t cut it, but there is certainly a better use of your mouth that might make it up to me,” he widens his legs more in invitation and when she doesn’t jump to wrap her lips around his dick, he speaks again, “now don’t go playing dumb, don’t need anymore idiots in this city, understood?” 

And she’s on her knees, because she’s come this far, pun not intended. Aidan undoes his belt and pulls his cock; hard and leaking precum, from his pants. She licks up the length of him, lapping at the head of his dick and tasting the bitter precum on her tongue. It’s vile but her clit still throbs at the idea of tasting him. He tastes and smells like sweaty skin and salt; but she’s drooling as she starts to take him down her throat. 

The bobs of her head are modest but quick, not willing to test how deep she can take him down her throat, but still eager to make him cum. Whether it’s because she wants this to end or because the idea of him blowing a load down her throat makes her already slick cunt wetter; she’s not entirely sure. But she’s willing to just indulge whatever it is, willing work her mouth up and down the length of him like it’s all she’s ever wanted. She’s willing to savor the taste of him heavy on her tongue. 

The tightening of a hand in her hair is her only warning that it isn’t enough for him, then her face is pressed down, his dick pushing past her gag reflex and down into her throat until the hair of pubes scratch at her nose. And he groans, relishing in the feeling of her throat wrapped around him, at the small struggle as she adjusts to the ache. And it aches, jaw pressed further open and throat struggles to accommodate him. Her eyes water and she has to remind herself to breathe through her nose. 

Her scalp stings when she’s pulled back by the hair, dragged back off his dick, taking a deep breath as soon as she can; then he’s forcing her back down. This time his hips thrust up along with it, his pelvis meeting her face with a slap. Hard enough to bruise and sting. And that’s the pace he sets, brutally fucking down her throat and using her like a toy. A combination of forcing her head and harsh snaps of his hips; gagging her on him. She’s left to grab his thighs and let him have his way; unable to fight any movement. 

She loses count of his movements; the pain of her hair being pulled, the burn of her stretching throat, the steady ache of an over extended jaw, and the force of his hips snapping up into her face all blur together. Then he holds her flush to his hip; cock buried in her throat and the twitch of his dick precedes the first heavy shot of cum that gags her. Then another and another; so deep in her throat she has no choice but to swallow. It settles warm and hot in stomach, but she’s unable to taste a drop until he pulls out of her mouth; dragging his cock across her tongue along the way; salty traces of his cum still there. 

“Well,” he laughs looking down at her red face where drool leaks from the sides of her mouth, “guess we won’t be too bad off having you in Night City, now will we?” 


End file.
